The pleasure was equally mine. I hope we will do a great deal more business in the future. On the matter of business, as I indicated to you in person, your withdrawal of 500,000 credits from your Rossum account left your balance with us at 700,000 credits. As a result of your very unfortunate wagers across the board this week, that balance is decreased by 600,000 in losses, leaving you with 100,000 on account with us.

We wish you better luck. My regards to your associate. Her offer was most kind.

The message had come in from the commissioner's office. The wily old Bothan wanted to speak with Taab, as a soon as possible. The league office had indicated that it was quite important. If things hadn't been so tense here on manda'yaim right now Vhett might have laughed at that thought. More important than assuming leadership after an assassination? More important that tracking down those guilty of the crime and punishing them? The foolishness of the little aruetii astounded her. She must have gained her lofty position through her connections, and knowing where the bodies were buried. Using such knowledge to her advantage would be quite in character for a Bothan.

Vhett sent her own message back to the league office. "As I am sure the Commissioner understands, Lord Taab is quite busy with affairs of State at the moment. He will be quite unable to attend any meetings for the foreseeable future. He has however turned over the day to day operations of the team to me. I have full control over the team now, while his attention is diverted...elsewhere. As you know, I am quite experienced and comfortable with this role, though I do hope that Lord Taab will be able to turn his attention to his beloved team soon.

I will Coruscant, to witness the game as well as attend any meetings required by the League and the Board of Governors. My ETA is of course classified. Given recent events, I am sure you understand. But I will be there on time."

She hit send on the message and then joined the team shuttle which had been waiting for her. The escort lifted off, and soon thereafter the shuttle followed. She didn't know what the League had in mind, or why they had called this meeting, but she was sure she wasn't going to like it.

Dirxx looked at his 29 teammates, who all stared back at him, waiting for him to say something of importance. He wanted to tell them that if they lost here, it would be OK. There was always next year . . . but not for him. He didn’t have the “next year” crutch anymore. Those days had passed, and now he just felt old. It was only a few minutes before the Solo Conference Semifinal against the Mercs from Mandalore, and it would be the final home game of the season for Coruscant.

“This is it, people,” Dirxx said. “This is our last home game. When I came into the league all those years ago, I never really knew what it would feel like when I was staring down my final home game in the face. But now that I’m here, at the end of my career, I want to know where all that time has gone. All of the stuff I’ve gone through, you have all gone through . . . we’ve done a lot in this league. When I started as captain, way back in ’62, no one really trusted me. The team was in shambles, and none of us knew how long the ride would last before we would be kicked off the bus and never see the bright lights again in this league. We lost our first two games, and the media was on my neck the entire time. I wasn’t ready for the spotlight.

But then we fixed things. We won a game, another game, and a third. By the end of the season, we had won the Galactic Cup. We were champions. I’ll never forget that season, because it meant so much to me to win a title here on Coruscant. And in ’68, when we won another one, that was equally satisfying. But now that I stare down my final playoff run, I want another one. I want to go out on top of the galaxy as team captain, but also as a member of this team.

Out there today, we will face the Mercs, who now have even more reason to want to beat us today. They are hurting, and if it wasn’t for their crazy antics, the galaxy would feel sorry for them. We need to go out there and force them to make mistakes. They need to channel their anger to win, but we need to turn that back around and play solid Senators ball. We can win this game and then go into the Gardens for one final showdown next week. We can do this; we just need to believe.

If this turns out to be our last game . . . then I’m happy to at least know that it was on my own terms. I get to retire like this. Not due to injury, or skill level, but by choice. And I can’t think of a better damn team to have spent my time with all these years. So let’s go out and take this game, and then two more.”

As the team left for the tunnel, Dirxx took one look back into the locker room. He was going to miss this place so badly when he retired. There was a mystical allure of the locker room for him; how hard was it going to be to walk away when all he ever really knew was Limmie?

After great protest by the fans, the Bak10 has reinstituted rivalry week in the final week of play. It restored the great geographic rivalries on the planet: the Big Game between UBSD and Tiarest; the Bay Cup between UBCS and the Fleet Academy; the PCNS-UBTV hatefest; the Battle for the Arcub between the Evenvale Archers and UBGC Cubs; and the Garden Shield match between Atalanta and the College of Deredith & Millicent.

The oldest rivalry was the Big Game. The flagship campus of the University of Bakura system had been playing Tiarest University, the oldest institution of higher learning on the planet, since before there had been a Bakura 10 Conference. The Tiarest Vibroaxe was their historic rivalry trophy with a long and storied history that involved multiple thefts by each student body, secret hiding places, and even a smuggling of the axe up a young woman's skirt on the river ferries to avoid police detection (this last bit was a UBSD triumph) before it became the official bolo-ball rivalry prize.

This year's Big Game was truly big. Tiarest and UBSD both sat at 7-1 records. They had both lost to PCNS, which was also at 7-1. The winner stood a shot at the Carnation Bowl if the Rangers lost. However, one of them had to win first and that wasn't going to be easy. Both teams were offensive powers this season. For the Burgundy, corner forward Almert Song was leading the conference in points coming into the Big Game and was widely considered a possible ELL Draft pick in 274. On the other end of the field was Niskat Deenever of the Golden Bears. Deenever was the heart and soul of the Bears and the best talent to wear the blue and gold since Aron Rodders. She held down the half forward line with surprisingly physical play. On the team they called her the "Golden Retriever" because of her blonde hair, the gold in the UBSD uniform, and the fact that there was no bolo-ball she wouldn't run down.

The two teams had a high level of loathing for each other. Tiarest undergrads said it was because the UBSD kids were bitter they didn't get into Tiarest. The Bear faithful countered that it was because Tiarest was jealous they'd never produced a Supreme Chancellor of the Republic or a Numifolis Award winner. Whatever the reason, there was some major hate going on at the Big Game.

At the Miner games there was generally a high level of decorum exercised in the Noble House box. Except for the occasional intense moment where beings forgot themselves, they were polite fans who didn't go beyond snide, deprecating remarks. Ayn behaved accordingly. Here, however, Ayn could give vent to her pent-up emotions. Right now she had a lot of emotions to get out.

Despite her confidence on Truce Day, Ayn was nervous about what would happen the next time she saw Declan. She was frustrated by the fact that for over a year she thought she had been battling against Becca Durst when she'd really been contending with Senator Madsen and his political canny. She had been taking flak from her coworkers about being absent from the office for limmie games (despite the fact her closings hadn't suffered at all) so she was angry too.

And she was letting it all out as she screamed at the Big Game.

"Go go go go!" Ayn yelled as the Bears worked the ball up the field.

The Bears knew where it was going. The Burgundy knew where it was going. Everyone in the stands knew where it was going. Even the guy who put the cheese on the nachos knew where it was going.

The Golden Bears put the bolo-ball in the hands of Niskat Deenever. She made a clean reception, turned, had all of one second before the defender got to her, lowered her shoulder, bounced the defender off her, seized the empty space in front of her, and rocketed the bolo-ball off her foot for a goal. Deenever gave the sky a back-arching scream as Ayn and the UBSD alumni jumped up and down in celebration.

"Yes! Yes!" Ayn yelled as she shook a total stranger next to her in joy.

This was what college limmie was about: the tribal loyalty it inspired in everyone who has reason to watch it. There was something of that in the pro game, but those fans often cheered for a team based on where they were born, where they currently lived, or who a parent a had liked. It was different when you were a member of a nation bound together by common experience. Ayn was a Golden Bear and this was her pack. For someone who had been an only child orphaned at a young age, it was an intense feeling of belonging. It wasn't a belonging dependent on the fact her grandmother was Deputy Prime Minister. In fact, nothing mattered except for the fact that she was a Bear. That was enough. Too often the galaxy tried to say that you weren't enough. It was nice to feel enough.

Today, being a Bear was enough. By a score of 32-26 they took back the Axe. The Tiarest campus police had a tight, two officer deep cordon around the field to prevent overzealous Bear undergrads from storming the field. It was a potent enough deterrent that it worked. Accordingly, the celebrations remained in the stands. Deenever went to receive the Axe--and promptly tripped on the turf and faceplanted. When she got up, grass in her hair, she looked none the worse for wear given the huge smile on her face.

It was a proud moment to be a Bear and Ayn reveled in it. Now they all had to wait for the game taking place in the Valley to finish...

IC: Kerry TriesteNeztua Stadium, Golden Prairie, Bakura

The Chancellor was not going to miss her daughter's conference-clinching game, even if it meant missing potentially the biggest Big Game in a decade. Besides, the Republic was actually pretty stable these days, so the office didn't demand all of her attention for a change. No explosions were going off on balconies in her purview, at least. Even if they were, Kerry Trieste had long ago decided after her husband's death that she needed to be more of a mother. She had not always been the best one as she had climbed the political ladder and fought a civil war. She'd relied on Mihal to raise their kids. Now she didn't have that luxury. Perhaps that was the gift that had come in the great tragedy of his death. It had made Kerry realize that there were two beings out of all the quadrillions in the galaxy that meant more than anything else to her.

The truth was that Kerry didn't need that motivation to be here today. She loved seeing her daughter on the limmie field. It was one of the biggest thrills of her life. It was like she was seeing the path she hadn't chosen play out before her. In fact, it was more than that. Kerry knew that Falene was better at the game than she'd been. This was seeing her own dreams literally come true. What made it so wonderful was that Kerry knew Falene wasn't playing because her mother had. Declan might have done that (in fact it was why she suspected he had gone to UBSD in the first place, to follow in her footsteps). Falene was her own being and did what she wanted and she always had. That was how Kerry knew that Falene loved the sport like her mother did. It was one of the reasons Kerry was so proud of her daughter.

The Pioneers, even if they had been barred from postseason competition, weren't in the conversation for the conference championship this year. They only had the rivalry to play for. Spite alone was powering the Pioneers as they tangled with the Rangers in the Valley. They could deny PCSN a Carnation Bowl and that was reason enough to win today.

Thanks to the fact UBTV was hosting the game it was easy for Declan to attend and see his sister play. He had joined his mother and the UBTV Chancellor, who had insisted on hosting the Supreme Chancellor despite the fact their interests in the game ran counter to each other.

"You have to admit they're giving them a fight," the UBTV Chancellor said, "It's the Pioneer spirit."

"Everything's on the table in a rivalry game," Kerry said, "First rule of college athletics."

"And always the case with us," the Chancellor replied proudly.

Declan was almost literally biting his tongue. He'd been instructed in no uncertain terms by his mother that he was not to make any remarks that were anything other than polite today and especially none about the recruiting scandal that had hit UBTV. Declan desperately wanted to punch a hole through the UBTV chancellor's boosterism, but was complying with his mother's wishes all the same.

The game was a defensive battle and that was what PCNS excelled at. Falene, the expert Senior (even if she did have one year of eligibility left), had effectively stopped the entire Pioneer ground game. She'd forced UBTV to go to the air to get offensive zone penetration and that was not their strong suit. The Rangers were hassling the Pioneer receivers and as a result they were keeping the Pioneers largely off the scoreboard. The problem was that the Ranger offense was clearly out of its groove today. The Pioneers had taken it to them and they were getting stymied. The number of shots off the uprights was driving their alumni insane--not to mention irritating the Supreme Chancellor who remembered when she'd easily made kicks like that in her day as a Bear.

The Rangers had a narrow lead, only 2 points, and had kept the Pioneers out of the goal completely. As time wound down, it looked like that was going to be enough to win. Bryan Cluff, the charismatic, outspoken, and now censured head coach of the Pioneers called a timeout with one minute left. Kerry knew that he was going to go for the final push here and she observed him from her vantage point with interest. Cluff was screaming his brains out at his players, which made Kerry quite glad she hadn't hired him as the head coach of the Miners--something she had seriously considered instruction Cundertol to do after Cluff had taken the once humble Pioneers to a Bak10 championship. The PCNS coaching staff was going over last minute instructions, no doubt defensively minded. That was going to put Falene front and center.

As the teams came back from timeout, the Pioneer fans in Zentua Stadium came to their feet and the Ranger faithful who had made the trip did as well. The energy of the game did the same to everyone in the chancellor's box and Kerry watched as the Pioneers raced up the field. They had decided to play their strength, the ground game, against the Rangers' strength, the run defense. The Pioneers blew by the Ranger midfield and angled for the left side of the field. Kerry, with a mother's intuition and eye, knew exactly where Falene was, and saw her daughter rush over towards the ball carrier to wrap him up.

That was when the Pioneers executed a lateral pass that hit their center half forward, now open thanks to Falene's pursuit of the bolo-ball. Though Falene skidded to a halt and corrected back, she was beaten. The center half forward deked the full back and hurled the bolo-ball for the far corner of the net.

He scored.

The Pioneers exploded and the game was perilously close to being over. PCNS put the ball back in play. Down by one, they could salvage the game and go to overtime with an over the bar point. They worked it up to the midfield, who had very little time. They had to kick from there and everyone watched as the ball sailed straight...and short.

The buzzer sounded and the Pioneer fans mobbed the field in celebration. They had unseated the Rangers, who at 7-2 fell into second place in the conference. There would be no Carnation Bowl for them. It would be Declan and Kerry's alma mater who would play for that, this year in a Super 16 stadium. It did give Declan some measure of pride that the Bears had broken through, though he knew that the loss would hit Falene hard.

Kerry knew exactly what this meant as she saw her daughter trudge of the field with her teammates. It meant that she would have no chance at a second college championship, something that would have made her one of the greatest college limmie players ever. It meant that her case for the Helmsman Trophy was now a longshot. With the Core World bias in the Coruscant Athletic Club, Falene had always been tough, but two straight Bak10 championships would have made a strong case to the voters. But more than that, she knew that her daughter hated to lose, just like her mother did.

"Congratulations, Chancellor," Kerry said to the UBTV chancellor, "Hell of a game."

"Thank you, Chancellor. A pleasure to have you join me. I hope you can feel some small measure of pride that the UB system you fostered is still prospering on the field as well as academically."

That was where Declan couldn't resist anymore. "Yes, it's so wonderful that the Bears will be playing the Carnation Bowl, don't you agree?" he said sweetly.

Kerry and Declan left. No sooner had they gotten into the lift than Kerry turned to her son. He didn't wait for her reprimand. "I know, I know," he said wearily.

"Well done," Kerry said, "Serves him right for rubbing salt in the wound."

Declan was surprised. "I thought--"

"One dig isn't going to do any major harm," Kerry said, "I'm glad one of the sense to get it in."

Kerry could care less about the success of the UB system right now. She had a daughter who had just lost a game, and a major game at that. She was needed elsewhere, not as a Chancellor, but as a mother.

Here it was, the final home game of the illustrious, and some would say odd, career of Dirxx Horstse. The Besalisk captain of the Senators stared around the stadium right before the opening kickoff, trying to get one last real look at the stadium that had become his home, his safe place, the stadium where they had crushed their opposition and been crushed in turn. Even though most Limmie junkies would say that Stoney End, Bakura Gardens, Six Boroughs, had infinitely more appeal than Andromeda, which was seen as the “ugly stepchild” of the other three, a modern marvel compared to the ageless wonders. But to him, and to the Senators faithful, this was their proving ground. They had arisen from the ashes in 262, broken noses and hearts on their way to the title that year from out of the blue. This Senators squad had shown that just because the team had once been a laughingstock, that things could change. No doubt other teams across the galaxy had seen hope in the Senator story, noting that if Coruscant, a “Limmie-backwards” planet for so long, could turn it around, they could as well.

And one of those teams seemed to be the Mando’ade Mercs, who were now arrayed on their side of the field. They had been slopped through the mud in consecutive years, only to then defy convention and make the Galactic Cup the last year, played here at Andromeda, no less. Dirxx, for all he hated about the clones on the Mercs teams, knew that these opponents were good. Especially here on Coruscant, where the Mercs had enjoyed quite a bit of success against the Senators. It was time to pay them back for that OT loss last year on their home turf that had cost Dirxx and his teammates a chance to win the Galactic Cup in their own stadium, in front of their own fans, showing the galaxy that they could go all the way. It was time to turn the tables and go to the Gardens next week to show everyone that this was a team of destiny, that the Senators would run the gauntlet one last time with the 262 veterans and go out on top. But first they needed to win here.

Dirxx could feel the grass below his cleats, the turf calling to him. It was going to be difficult to not be able to have that connection after this game; the grass or turf at the other venues didn’t feel as soft, as cushy, as the grass here. He had become well-acquainted with it over the years, diving for loose balls, making tackles, swatting down enemy passes. He had even ate dirt more times than he normally would have liked. But he was going to miss this grass, because like him, it had become part of Senator lore. The field of Andromeda was Senator territory, and no one could take that away from them. This was their last battle.

The game began, and the Mercs took the ball down the field. Dirxx called out the 1-3-3 zone to start off, causing Zummarrorroo, the wingman in this defense, to fill in the gap left by Ortho Dyhon, the Center Half Back who came out to start the box zone look. The midfielders, Alysha Romax and Demetra Silkins, started to pinch in as the Mercs came across, getting their chips in as the Mercs made their rush. It wasn’t intended to be much of a play, but it would force the opposing team to re-adjust, which gave Dirxx more time to “steal” signals and call audibles. The ball went from clone to clone, in a never-ending cycle. They were also playing a high-octane offensive attack, but the Senators knew that they could beat it. They had weeks earlier, so they could do it again.

Finally a break came when the Mercs pushed it. But Dirxx was there to make the play, causing a fumble on the play. Myles Tormera, the Right Half Back, scooped the loose ball off the ground and tossed it up to Ortho, who then got it to Alysha for the counterattack.

On the other end, the Senators had their way with the Mercs defense. Polis Vayne faked right, then zipped a crisp pass to Syprul Raches, who then tossed it behind his back to a slashing Moen Heatly. Heatly, getting a rare screen from Lokesh Fil’ish, the Senator field general, easily beat Mij Katan for the game’s first goal.

The momentum continued for the rest of the first half. The Mercs had plenty of possession time, but couldn’t do anything with the ball. They kept passing, but couldn’t drive because every time they tried, the Senators put up a wall to bounce them back. On the other end, the Senators were continually gouging the Mercs defense, moving almost at will. Max Qorbus took a nice pass from Fil’ish and skipped a shot past Katan for a 16-3 lead late in the half, which got the crowd into a complete frenzy. They were pulling away, and now it was time to put down the hammer.

The second half saw no changes. The Senators continued to pound the ball every time they went on offense. Score after score went on the board, compared to only a few for the visitors. Even the bench players got in on the rout; Zadd dodged a couple of tackles and settled a nice shot over the bar, and this was quickly followed by Wylega Zola putting in a goal just past Katan’s fingertips.

On defense, the Senators kept changing the guard every few minutes. Off the bench came Reena Wyley, Pasla Tesh, Sheila Nightshade, Evis Kunat, Doon’sun . . . each of them came in and had an impact. When the Senator starters, Deter, Contar, Fil’yer, came out, the reserves kept up the fight, digging in and not giving an inch. It was the typical Senators defense; the Mercs had a similar theory, but the Senators were executing it today. This was what the Senators of 262 had relied on for defense, and it was still working a decade later.

When the final horn sounded, the crowd roared its head off. The score was Senators 32, Mercs 10. Just like that, the home career of the nine Senator veterans had come to a close with a win. For some of the retiring players, this wasn’t as big a deal, but for those who had been here in 262, this was it. They would now go on the road against the Bakura Miners, a homecoming for Moen Heatly against his former team. But that was for next week; it was time to celebrate here.

Dirxx asked for a microphone to be set up at the middle of the field, and it was granted to him. When the system was set up, he tapped the microphone vigorously, sending annoying shrieks of feedback into the stadium PA system. “Um . . . is this thing on?” he asked.

The crowd screamed once more, acting like a tidal wave that washed over the entire stadium. All 700,000 Senator fans here were still in their seats, although the Mercs fans had hit the exits a long time earlier.

“It’s been a long time coming,” Dirxx said. “I stand here before all of you after having played my final home game here in black and orange. And this goes for all of my retiring teammates as well; we have wrapped up our careers here, and that is being met by us with a mix of relief . . . and confusion.

When I was signed here originally in 260, I didn’t really know what I was getting into. The team was in shambles, the stadium here never sold out, and spirits were low. And I was in the shadow of my father the whole time . . . I didn’t know where to go, what to do, and how I could prove myself.

Now I stand before you thirteen years later, giving my home retirement speech. I’ve won two Galactic Cups, was nominated for last year’s Duchess Eldin . . . but most importantly, I’ve been given the honor of being the team captain ever since 262. That honor right there has been the biggest achievement in my career. I always wanted to grow up to be like my father . . . well, I got my chance here playing Limmie, and although I’ll probably never be quite the man he was, I feel like I’ve done pretty well for myself over the years.

So I want to thank my teammates for helping me get here one final time, because without them this team wouldn’t be going anywhere. I also want to thank the Front Office for believing in me enough to grant me captain status all those years ago, and for not giving up in times of trouble. When the team was in dire straits, they pulled it out of the mire and got us going again. Without them, I wouldn’t be standing here today in front of you all. And I also want to thank you, the fans, for being here every season, for giving us a reason to believe in ourselves. When times got tough, you stuck it out with us. You’ve been here every game, every year, supporting us, and I can’t thank you enough for your help. This win goes to all of you out there!” The crowd roared one more time. “And now I’d like to turn it over to my other teammates, who probably have some things to say.” He handed the microphone off to Polis, who began to speak.

Then the Besalisk noticed Gark S’rily, in his signature sweatshirt, on the sideline. The Bothan nodded in the direction of his captain, and Dirxx returned the gesture. There was a lot of respect between the two men . . . Gark had been the coach of this team for several years, and had pushed this team to be even better every time they hit the pitch. And he had been one hell of a GM, so that hadn’t hurt his portfolio any.

When the team had finished speaking, Dirxx took the microphone back. “I’m thinking that all of you want me to name my successor as captain right now,” he said. “But I’m going to just let you wait and speculate on who that will be next year.” Some laughter came from the crowd. “Seriously, though, I just want to thank you all again for supporting us, and even though we are retiring, the Senators spirit will live on. Thank you.”

The crowd exploded once again, and Dirxx just let the moment wash over him. It felt good to go out on his own terms like this instead of having something else, or someone else, tell him he wasn’t able to play anymore. The next thing he knew, he was shaking hands with Gark and the coaching staff. Most of the players in the line got a handshake with the GM, but Dirxx didn’t let the Bothan get away with only that. He embraced his former coach in a huge bear hug, and the Bothan didn’t mind too badly. It was a passing of the guard for the team, and Dirxx was sure that Gark had some ideas up his sleeve for the next season already.

When the team was ready to file out of the locker room to go home, Dirxx took one last look back at the room that he had called home for so many years. The black carpet, the orange streaks running down the wall, the holos of famous Senator players from time immemorial . . . he was going to miss it. And before him stood one last game, one last chance to prove himself against the Bakura Miners at the Gardens. It was going to be a titanic struggle for the ages, and he didn’t want to miss it.

“Nice to see you in the office today,” one of Ayn’s slightly more senior colleagues said with obvious derision.

“Someone had to file the Atarxis closing,” Ayn replied with her own more subtle dig. She’d closed the Atarxis deal for the two floors of the 6400 Antruse Avenue space in Gesco City that had been sitting on the market for the last two months last week. There had been several offers by firms to break the space up into smaller clients, but management had wanted to sell the whole space to one client. It had proven nettlesome to say the least and Ayn had been the one to move the computer systems firm’s headquarters into the space. It was nothing short of a minor professional coup. “By the way, I was a bit busy this weekend? How was the Garden Shield?”

That was a little twist of the knife. Ayn was fully aware of the fact that her associate had attended Deredith & Millicent, the historic limmie powerhouse. They’d lost in embarrassing fashion to Atalanta this weekend. Her coworker made no reply and just walked off.

That returned Ayn’s uninterrupted privacy to her. Though she was filing the Atarxis closing, she was also perusing the BBC Sports Holonet site. Due to the one day delay between the Bak10 games and the Elite League schedule, the BBC had already gotten its UBSD Bak10 celebratory commentary out of the way (which further reinforced to everyone outside of Salis D’aar that the BBC had an inherent “Salis D’aar bias” when it came to sports) and could now consider the upcoming Semifinal game since the Miners now knew who they would face.

The portal page to the BBC Sports page blared the headline, “SENS & MINERS: WHO ELSE?”

The article was not by one of the BBC’s own staff but instead by one of HSN’s top beat writers, Mik Songsteel. He was something of a small legend on Bakura. He’d left BBC Sports to work for HSN and was pretty renowned for being one of the best ELL writers on staff at HSN and a pretty impartial (and insightful) one at that. All of his pent-up urges as a fan were channeled 100% into his alma mater, UBSD. This did occasionally result in him being called an Aron Rodders fanboy, to which Songsteel usually replied with something about a Numifolis Award justifying any so-called excessive praise for the Miners’ Full Forward.

His article ran as follows:

No teams have met more often than the Miners and the Senators since Niakara Kayl’hen took the helm. They tangoed in the Playoffs last year and—if you count the Thyferra Force as an extension of the S’rily limmie empire—the year before that. There are many great rivalries in the Elite League, but the Senatorial Showdown has become perhaps the greatest of them all. The teams with the two best regular season records will face each other for the Solo Conference championship and a shot at the Galactic Final this week. But who holds the edge? Let’s breakdown the matchup.

HISTORY

Coruscant holds an 8-6 edge in the rivalry and a 3-0 playoff record against the Miners. All three games have been played at Bakura Gardens and it’s no secret that the Miners have had trouble winning playoff games at home. In fact, even going all the way back to the Crendan Era, the Miners have never won a Semifinal/Conference Championship game at home. Let me repeat that: the Miners have never won a Galactic Cup Semifinal at home. That alone should give the Mollies pause. Furthermore, no road team has ever won in the Senatorial Showdown in the Galactic Cup Playoffs (much to the Miners’ misfortune since they have hosted every playoff meeting of these two teams).

Advantage: Coruscant

COACHING

Gaeriel Valerii who overcame a dismal defense—and I mean they really stunk—to win a Commissioner’s Trophy. I’ve gone on the record saying that Cundertol was rightly shut out of the Grames Award voting this season. This season has been a masterwork by Valerii, her third straight, and it looks like she’s going to have a very long career ahead of her as an Elite League coach.

Pamile Korthe is no stranger to the Elite League after singlehandedly bringing the Thyferra Force into the League for a season of glory. Everyone knew that she was going to be the next head coach of the Senators of Gark S’rily had anything to say about it and she was. Korthe very quietly put together an amazing season with a core group of veterans in the twilight of their career, a core that smacked down the Mercs last week in impressive fashion.

However, Korthe is a perfect 0-3 against Gaeriel Valerii in her Elite League career. Valerii’s offense has hit its stride in its three showings against Korthe’s defensive schemes with 32-16, 19-3, and 37-30 results.

Advantage: Bakura

OFFENSE

Averaging nearly 29 points a game, the Miners offense was far and away the best thing they had going this season. Cundertol’s gambit to bring the Hapans into the half forward line has paid off handsomely and Valerii’s cycle scheme works way more than it fails. Rodders has become perhaps the dominant Full Forward in the game today and Andersen, despite getting up there in years, has been surprisingly productive alongside Stormborn.

The Senators, however, were still third in offense this season, and torched the Mercs last week. Polis Vayne had an MVP-caliber season and even though the veteran has said he will hang his cleats up, one has to wonder if there’s still some fuel left in the tank. He was their leading scorer again this season, this time backed up by last year’s Numifolis winner Max Qorbus, who has transitioned seamlessly into the Coruscant offense.

Even so, the Miners offense has been a beast this season.

Advantage: Bakura

MIDFIELD

Romax and Silkins are perhaps one of the most undervalued midfield pairings in the game today. They’re the pivot on which the Senators turn, even if they’re upstaged by bigger names on either side of the field. It’s the anonymity of the two that make them so strong. Posting the second best point differential this season, Romax and Silkins could be the wild card factor that puts the Senators over the top.

Except for the fact that they face the most recognizable midfield duo in the game today opposite them: Alana Glencross and Everett North. Ever since the 271 season, Glencross has toned down her often flashy play to be more of a team player (and I would argue more of a captain as a result). Red still has her flashes of emotion, but what’s been overlooked is that she’s in a contract year of one of the best three year contracts in the Kayl’hen Era. She’s won a Galactic Cup in 271, posted the best point differential and an MVP nod in 272, and now a Commissioner’s Trophy in 273 with room for more. Cundertol’s first major signing as GM was one he hit out of the park (and, speeches aside, reason enough for his 272 Grames win). Lest you be deluded into thinking it’s the Alana Glencross Show, Everett North is a defensive stalwart at midfield who is responsible enough to hold down the fort when Glencross jumps up.

Advantage: Bakura

DEFENSE

Do I even need to write this section? Seriously? Editors? Seriously?

Much hay has been made of the Miners’ failings. I won’t lay all the faults at the feet of Ruunron (Uncia has clearly been a less-than-adequate Full Back for the Miners and Bree Tarth should be concerned going into contract negotiations with the Smug Dragon), but Cundertol’s huge trade for the Mercs’ first rounder in 274 is clearly having an effect—as is the move away from a development affiliate. If Cundertol had an LFL team he would have switched Ruunron out weeks ago. Unfortunately, he’s stuck with him until next season. As an aside, I highly doubt that he’ll be back in 274, even with two years left on his contract.

Meanwhile, everything’s peachy in Coruscant’s back six! Dirxx Horste and company slammed the door shut against the Mercs last week, utterly fileting the second best offense in the league by stopping the ground game and preventing Mando’ade from getting any penetration at all. The Senators put up the third best defense this season. Their biggest meltdown, however, was their 37 point shootout fest with the Miners in Week 3. Before the Mollies get too excited, the Senator defense has allowed only 20 points in their last 3 games for an impressive 6.67 points per game coming into the Gardens.

Advantage: Coruscant. Hands down.

GOALKEEPING

This is a tough one. Jenna Leed has been inconsistent at best against the Miners. She was 0-2 on Thyferra and the Senators have only gone 1-2 against the Miners since she got the call up to the big club to split time with Venn Sto (it’s hard to know who to blame given the way the Senators have rotated through goalkeepers this season in a true tandem effort). Leed’s gone 3-1 in the regular season and I wouldn’t be surprised to see her get the nod from Korthe for the Solo Conference Championship. However, if Leed looks shaky in practice, expect to see Sto.

For Bakura, Anton Jorpik has been inconsistent. In 272 he put up the second best PAA in the league with 16.86 overall. This season he was last. Jorpik is a good goalkeeper, but not a great one. Like with defense, there’s nobody in reserve waiting for the Miners. There’s a lot of enthusiasm for Jorpik after winning the Carnation Bowl in 271 on Bakura, but he’s 0-1 in the playoffs and needs a signature win to show that he can compete.

Advantage: This one’s a coin toss. I’m calling it a tie. However, if it's a Leed versus Jorpik battle, my gut says that Leed could give the Senators the slightest edge.

WHO WINS?

On paper, the Miners have the better team here. They walloped the Senators 37-30 at Andromeda earlier this season. Their Week 7 loss against the Mercs only saw 15 minutes of play by all but one starter (and, let’s face it, the one that Valerii left in, Ruunron, is not much of a starter) and their loss is not indicative of the current state of the team. The week off allowed them to heal bumps and bruises which may be nothing or it may be everything. Rumors have persisted ever since the Coruscant game that Corrie Andersen, who left the game after a hard hit, has been nursing an injury ever since (though you’d never know it from her play). Rodders is at the top of his game and he’s being managed expertly by Valerii.

The Senators are riding momentum after their big Conference Semifinal win. History is on their side as the road team. They are not the same team that let 37 points in when Rodders and company rolled them up earlier this year and their offense picked apart the Miners for 30. Korthe is wily and isn’t going to stand for another trouncing. She deftly stopped the Mercs in their tracks and is likely pouring over her footage of the Miners now. I fully expect we’re going to see her use her veteran defense to the fullest extent she has.

I know that the Ylesia-Vandelhelm tilt is going to be exciting with the new kids on the block against the undisputed Skywalker Conference marquee team, but it’s the Senatorial Showdown that is looking like it will be the better game this coming weekend. You have two teams at the top of their game who are going to play strength against strength. Pamila Korthe is going to try to win the old-fashioned way by stopping the Miner offense and trusting that her front six can take advantage of the Miners’ back seven again. Gaeriel Valerii is going to try to institute a new paradigm in bolo-ball by winning a championship based on offense alone and making a little Miners history too by finally having some home field advantage at the Gardens. That’s a matchup I can’t wait to see play out.

I want to like the Miners here (they’ve got more coaching, offense, and midfield going for them), but my gut says Coruscant (history, defense, and goalkeeping if it's Leed). The intangibles are in the Senators' favor and in the Galactic Cup Playoffs, the intangibles are usually the most important thing on the field.

Ayn sat back in her chair and thought about what she’d just read. The truth was that there was a great deal of apprehension revolving around the Miners’ Solo Conference championship. People knew the history and they were worried. Ayn was worried too. The team had done so well. For it to come crashing down now…

Well, it didn’t all have to do with the team. Ayn would be with the Noble House again and she’d heard the Chancellor was, in private, not the most gracious loser. She really didn’t want to be around when that happened.

“Obviously, your support will make a huge difference,” Niakara Kayl’hen said, “You happen to have a great deal of sway with the Patriot Governors who have been very…unaccommodating thus far. If they heard that you supported the plan…” The Commissioner let that sentence trail off. It was understood that her support would almost certainly move the Chandrilan vote on the League Board of Governors.

“Of course,” Chancellor Trieste said simply, “but you must understand that I’m not very happy with the plan either. It’s not going to go over well with my fanbase. My support, therefore, would have negative implications for the operations of the Miners.”

Kayl’hen thought the Chancellor was being overly dramatic, but that wasn’t something you said to the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, not when you were asking for a favor. “All the same, the situation is untenable, you will agree,” Kayl’hen said.

“Unquestionably,” Kerry said without hesitation, “Ratings are way down and we all know the culprits are in the Skywalker Conference. If it wasn’t for the strong Solo Conference performance, our holo ratings would look like they were in a tailspin. I suspect that’s going to make for a very awkward Board of Governors meeting.” The Chancellor sipped some tea the Commissioner had kindly poured out, mainly because she enjoyed the ability to arch her eyebrows over the rim of the cup at the Bothan.

The Commissioner knew she was going to be in for a day like this when she’d asked the Chancellor to see her on “urgent League business”. Though she was only one vote, she was an important vote.

“The principles have all agreed to the plan,” Kayl’hen said.

“And it’s going to cost me a lot of credits. The regional media rights, even when split, are a large part of our revenue stream,” Kerry replied.

“We have taken steps to defray that as much as possible, as I’ve explained.”

“And that’s going to entail expanded salary considerations. Don’t think for a second the players aren’t going to want more as a result. Unlike some other teams I actually want to see the Miners turn a profit, though I accept breaking even if need be,” Trieste continued, “Even so, you are asking for sacrifice here.”

“For the health of the League,” Kayl’hen said pointedly, “After all, you’ve dedicated your entire career to the greater good. I’m sure that you can see that this will have quite a positive effect for the state of limmie in the galaxy as a whole.”

“Indeed it will,” Kerry replied as she set her teacup and saucer down. Somehow Kayl’hen thought the Chancellor knew that all along, but wanted to drag the Commissioner through the tortured discussion all the same. “Though, all things considered, I would still say that I am doing you a favor and when the Taoiseach of the Noble House extends a favor…that is a very big deal.”

The Bothan’s ears pricked up and her fur rippled. She did not like the sound of this.

Kerry Trieste drew a credit chip out and held it up. Or, at least that’s what Kayl’hen thought it was at first. She discovered courtesy of a slight movement of the human’s fingers that it was a credit chip in two halves, separated by a jagged break. “The Noble House will vote for your plan. In exchange, you will hold this chip. Whoever comes to you with the matching half is entitled to a favor from you, or your successor as Commissioner if necessary. Whatever that being asks must be given in consideration of the favor I render to you here.”

“You ask a high price. An unnamed favor in the future from whoever has that chip?” Kayl’hen asked, “If dangerous beings were to get hold of that chip…”

Kerry smiled. “It’s the way things are done.”

Niakara Kayl’hen considered. She knew that if she did not get the Board of Governors to approve the plan, it could spell the end of her tenure as Commissioner. While she was not desperate to keep the office, she knew that this plan was the best shot for the Elite League’s overall health. The current state of affairs could not continue. Through parliamentary wrangling, she needed six votes on the Board to pass her plan. She had three locked up now and another two in the wings (even if those votes weren’t happy about it). Sure, even if Trieste withheld the Miner vote and the Patriots opposed her that was only two against. There were another four that she could turn to. However, if word leaked that the Miners, and by extension the Chancellor, had voted against the plan even if it passed, it would look very bad for the League. The truth was that she needed the Bakura vote.

“I accept,” Kayl’hen said, standing.

Trieste shook her hand, and in doing so placed one half of the credit chip in it. “You’ll have the Miners vote. Chandrila will fall in line once I make a personal call.”

“Most appreciated, Chancellor,” Kayl’hen said, though she didn’t feel very appreciative considering the credit chip in her palm.

“Any time, Commissioner,” Kerry Trieste said.

As the Supreme Chancellor walked out of the office, somehow the Bothan wondered if the Chancellor hadn’t gotten what she’d wanted all along…

Ayn sat in front of her mirror as she put on her face for the day. HSN and the Elite League had dictated an evening start for the Solo Conference Championship game, so she had decided to catch a shuttle out of Cape Suzette for Salis D’aar instead of spending the night in the capital. She paused and looked at herself. She took a deep breath.

This was it. Galactic Cup Final or bust. Declan or bust. A lot was riding on this game for her. She wondered who else felt the same pressure. Did Quinn Cundertol with his at-will contract worry that a Miner loss today could spell the end of his tenure helming a Big Four team? Did Alana Glencross with her expiring contract worry about what would happen to her after this game? Did Dirxx Horste wonder if this game would tarnish his legacy? Did the Noble House, recently honored with a Zumtak nomination, wonder if this game would sway the last-minute voters and add yet another accolade to their fabled name? Would this game change anything for Gark S’rily whose career as general manager was already considered legendary (much to the chagrin of Bakura who missed the old days of easy wins on Coruscant)? What else would this game mean for the lives that it touched? Anything? Nothing? Everything?

Ayn picked up her eyeshadow and applied a light gold shimmer to her eyelids. She checked one and then the other, closing each eye in turn.

Gold, the color of aurodium that had brought colonists to this planet so many years ago.

She stood and went to her closet. There was no flipping through dresses today. She knew exactly what she was looking for. It was a sapphire off-the-shoulder dress that she’d purchased last week.

Blue, the color of the oceans that dominated the world.

Together the national colors of Bakura and the colors of the Miners. There could be no other combination.

Southeast Salis D’aar, Bakura

Ayn stepped off the monorail, which had shuttled her and hundreds of other beings from the regional spaceport to the stadium district. Twilight was already starting to fall in Salis D’aar. This would be a true night game. Already she could see the floodlights were on in the Gardens. A slight chill was already in the air. There was a dampness that threatened rain, perhaps fog. Fog was more common in Cape Suzette with its broad bay, but it sometimes crept into the twin rivers city.

Dormingale strode with her hands in the pockets of her large black coat, which reached to her bare knees. She was thankful she’d thought ahead and worn it today. Other fans were wearing long sleeves and some even in sweatshirts. The pubs and restaurants looked especially invitingly warm on this uncharacteristically cool evening. The weather for the day had been warm, but the temperature had dropped precipitously in the evening.

Ayn looked up at the giant vidscreen in front of the Gardens, curious to see what today’s mantra was. The marketing team apparently hadn’t gotten cute. They’d gotten right to the point.

“SOLO CONFERENCE FINAL 274”

That was all anyone needed to know.

Noble House box, Bakura Gardens, Salis D’aar, Bakura

“Curse HSN for handing us a night game,” Siona complained bitterly as she accepted a hot toddy from a droid, “There’s no reason this couldn’t have been a day game. None at all. It was a gorgeous day today, beautiful day for limmie.

“For once I’m inclined to agree with you,” Ronan said, “We could have played before the Vandelhelm game with no problem.”

“Why do you let the Commissioner walk all over you like this, sister?” Regan asked archly.

“I have my reasons,” Kerry said enigmatically. From where she stood in the room, Ayn wondered exactly what those reasons were. Somehow, she thought something was brewing, but what was something only the Chancellor knew.

“What’s more dangerous,” Ayn asked, changing the subject, “A team you already beat once or a team that you haven’t yet beaten?” The direction of her question was clear: the Miners had beaten the Senators at Andromeda earlier in the season in a 37-30 shootout.

“I’ll take the win,” Kerry said, “Put the doubt in Korthe’s mind that she’s never beaten us.”

“There’d never be a better time to do so,” Ronan said, “I doubt that it’s got her shaking in the corner of the visitor’s locker room right now.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Kerry remarked dryly, “It’s too bad she’s on Team S’rily. We would have made a play for her after firing Talley.”

“And that turned out terribly for us,” Ayn remarked with a smirk.

“Horribly. That Valerii woman, fire her tomorrow,” Declan said, entering the box with Falene. He was unusually tardy today. The game was getting close to starting, or at least the pregame pageantry was.

“Good to see you,” Kerry said to both of her kids, “Thought you might miss the festivities.”

“Not for the Solo Conference Final,” Falene said with a smile. Ayn noticed it was a bit of a forced smile. Falene had blown the coverage on the winning goal for UBTV last week. Ayn wouldn’t have blamed her for taking that one hard. The Helmsman nominees had not yet been released and even if Falene drew a nomination a victory would be a long shot. The word was that HSN Scouting was going to include her in their draftee rankings despite the fact she’d made no formal announcement about her plans for the Draft. That had the potential to stir some major debate in bolo-ball circles.

The floodlights that lit the field and stadium went dark and the Gardens roared in anticipation.

“I believe that would mean it’s time,” Kerry said. Ayn followed the Triestes to their seats in the front of the box. There was no time to talk to Declan, but she was all right with that. He’d have to come to her. If he didn’t…well, that would say enough right there. She tactfully took a seat next to Regan.

“Shouldn’t you be elsewhere?” the Supreme Court Justice asked casually.

“No, I’m right where I should be,” Ayn replied.

Eldred made no further comment. The dark stadium was illuminated by the sudden image of Alana Glencross in road whites standing next to the Solo Conference Championship Trophy on a table two years ago. They most definitely were not touching the trophy nor the table it stood on. Everyone was smiling, including Esther Gondorf who had tried in vain to get the Miner captain to accept the Solo Conference trophy. Then the vidscreen suddenly flashed to the team photo from 271 of the Miners on Ryloth with the Galactic Cup. The Miner fans cheered all the louder. They agreed with their captain—they didn’t want the trophy that would be awarded today. They wanted the one that came after it.

The vidscreen feed cut to a live locker room look. A strategically placed area mic was picking up the head coach’s pregame speech from the middle of the Miners locker room where everyone sat on benches next to each other, decked out in their dark blues.

“We all know what’s at stake here today,” Valerii said, addressing the whole room, “We’ve played some big games this season and this is the biggest yet. We know who we’re going against and we know how they play. They play hard and fast and they will give as good as they get. Let’s establish our game early and keep playing our game all 60 minutes. You’ve shown time and again that you have the hearts of champions. It’s time to go out there and show the galaxy what you’ve got. Let’s go.”

It wasn’t the most rousing speech Ayn had ever heard. She hoped it was the speech that the Miners needed to hear right now. Business as usual, another day at the office. The players stood up and strode out of the locker room. The vidscreen feed cut to that familiar shot of the polished silver doors sliding open. As always, the first through the doors and down the blue carpet that stretched over the lower concourse was Glencross, her traditional blue and gold ribbons tying off her hair. The rest of the team wasn’t far behind. The moment each player hit the turf outside the glass doors of the concourse they broken into a run into the now suddenly bright Bakura Gardens once more to the joy of the crowd. If the players were thinking about the history that had marked the Miners in the last 20 years of home playoff games, they didn’t show it. In fact, Ayn herself almost forgot the monumental history they were attempting to overcome today. History would have to be made today for the Miners to continue their season.

Ayn looked at the Coruscant sideline, which was beginning to fill with Senators players and coaching staff. She knew that these days Gark S’rily wasn’t down there, but she still looked for his familiar presence all the same. This time last year Gark S’rily might have singlehandedly saved Kerry Trieste’s political career at the Senate—an appropriate place given the team that he helmed. Now Kerry Trieste and her brood—not to mention Ayn—would love to see nothing more than S’rily to go down in flames. It was funny how things turned.

Some beings would say that after everything that had happened there in the last year, Coruscant could use a win. Ayn Dormingale didn’t care. She wouldn’t have cared if the entire Galactic City had burned to the ground (wherever that supposedly was on Coruscant given the fact they built buildings upon buildings there). She wanted a win today for Bakura. She could use a win today herself.

Cunning, intelligent, and dangerously beautiful, Kaitlyn Vehn of Druckenwell is everything the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers need from an owner looking to place her mark on the storied franchise as she forges a path into the future.

Kaitlyn bought majority control of the team when her sister-in-law, and former Smugglers owner, Verity Vehn, decided to spend more time with her family on Roon. Within 24 hours of assuming ownership responsibilities, Kaitlyn cleaned house and fired former general manager Vincent Cutter and the coaching staff he had assembled despite the fact that he helped the Smugglers win three titles in the last 13 years. The exodus of talent from the Vertical City did not stop there as several veterans were forced into retirement to make room for younger, more talented, players.

But all decisions have consequences.

Kaitlyn was forced to step down from her position as Chairwoman of the RTO by the Board of Tribunes, that august body of representatives from the member worlds, on the grounds that her new duties as owner of the Smugglers would take away too much time from her responsibilities in leading the RTO. That was the publicly released version. What really happened is that Kaitlyn took a great deal of flak from the Board of Tribunes for letting Naboo join the Republic without consulting their opinions on the matter. The other member worlds were chafing at the precedent Naboo’s departure set for the economic union. After all, if a planet as prestigious as Naboo could leave, what was stopping all of them from simply walking away? Equally troubling to the Board of Tribunes was the consolidation of emergency powers that Kaitlyn accumulated after playing a key role in the defeat of Alexander Speyburn during the brief RTO civil war.

Faced with a ruler who had significantly reduced their power and who was not consulting them on matters of state, the board took matters into their own hands and found a brief clause in the RTO Charter that stated: “Any Chairperson of the RTO who has assumed emergency powers during the event of a crisis must relinquish said powers within six months of the resolution of the crisis. Failure to do so gives the Board of Tribunes full authority to remove said person from their position as executive head of the Roon Trade Organization.”

The end was at hand. Kaitlyn, realizing her back was against the wall and that the proverbial firing squad was about to commit a political execution, stepped down from her position as Chairwoman of the RTO and quietly slipped away into the shadows. Decidedly done with politics, Kaitlyn has turned her full attention to the world of Limmie and has applied her business acumen and ruthlessness to the sporting world in all of its multifarious aspects.

She has the money, she has the power, but most importantly, she has the vision to lead the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers into a new era filled with unparalleled success. Success that she is not afraid to obtain by any means necessary.

The First 24 Hours

“Welcome to Nar Shaddaa, Kaitlyn,” Verity Vehn said as she stood to extended a hand to the Chairwoman of the RTO.

Kaitlyn took her sister-in-law’s hand and sat down across from her, noticing her own reflection in the smooth, crystal clear surface of the conference table. Her eyes flicked to her wrist chrono and back to Verity. She had rarely been to Nar Shaddaa even when the Vertical City had been formally under the banner of the Roon Trade Organization. The place stunk, had a crime rate that could never be fully managed, and had credits oozing out of it from every orifice. For anyone who liked doing legal business, Nar Shaddaa could be a real headache. That was why Kaitlyn had agreed to let the moon return to its rightful owners, the Hutts.

“Customs hold you up?” Verity asked.

Kaitlyn barely smiled. She wasn’t here for small chat. She was here to make a deal. Never mind the joke that was Hutt Customs. The slugs couldn’t even do a proper border patrol if their fat, wealthy little lives had anything to say about it. No, this meeting was about more than catching up with family, distant family, she corrected. This was about the transfer of power. This was about the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. Still, she had to be polite. That was the least she could do.

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” Kaitlyn replied. “Do you have the papers?”

“Don’t you want to know about the team’s finances? The roster? Meet the coaching staff?” Verity inquired, a little taken aback that Kaitlyn was so direct.

Verity saw that Kaitlyn meant business. Frowning slightly, she produced a dossier full of flimsi, all the papers necessary to transfer ownership from Verity Vehn to Kaitlyn Vehn. Sliding the dossier across the smooth surface of the conference table, Verity let her hands linger a bit on the folder.

“You sure this is what you want?” Verity asked. She had hoped to see some form of compassion, some interest, something more than the lethality of business decision making that had become an intimidating trademark of Kaitlyn’s business dealings.

“The team will be in good hands, if that’s what you mean,” Kaitlyn replied, “besides, you know me, I’m the biggest fan.”

“Right,” Verity responded and watched as Kaitlyn scribbled her signature on the papers effectively making the transfer complete.

“Do you want a tour of the team facilities?”

“I’ll take one on my own time,” Kaitlyn said.

“I know Vincent Cutter is eager to meet you,” Verity suggested.

“Really? Because last I checked, I fired him along with the entire coaching staff shortly before I arrived. I highly doubt he’s looking forward to seeing me,” Kaitlyn responded with an acid tone.

Verity’s face fell. She couldn’t believe that Kaitlyn had pulled strings to get the staff that she paid fired. That didn’t settle well with her. That staff had led Nar Shaddaa to two Galactic Cup victories in the last eight years. No, Kaitlyn had to be mistaken, but one look in her eyes told Verity everything she needed to know. This woman was out for blood, this woman was ready to make the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers an entirely different team, and for all the wrong reasons.

Sure, Verity wasn’t pleased that Kaitlyn had sacked the entire front office, but she had already fielded doing the very same thing heading into this year. Three consecutive losing seasons wasn’t something the Smugglers tolerated, not with a position in Elite League Limmie on the line. It was simply the way that Kaitlyn had gone and done things, without consulting anyone.

“I can’t believe that you superseded my—“ Verity began but was cut off my Kaitlyn checking her datapad.

“We agreed to preliminary terms weeks ago, Verity. This signing today was just a formality,” Kaitlyn said as she checked the recently arrived message. She stood, sure that it would be further good news.

What she read nearly made her collapse onto the floor. Hands shaking, color drained from her face, Kaitlyn slipped back into her chair, looked as if she’d been punched right in the face.

“What’s wrong?” Verity asked.

Kaitlyn didn’t have the heart to re-read the message and flipped her datapad across the table to Verity. Her icy demeanor had been shattered. She was stripped bare. She was hardly the confident, aggressive woman that had entered this meeting only a few minutes ago.

“The Board of Tribunes is removing you from power on the grounds that you have failed to relinquish the emergency powers given to you to fight Speyburn,” Verity read aloud, referring to the brief conflict in the RTO several months earlier. “A new Chairperson will be voted on later in the day.”

Verity looked up at Kaitlyn, saw that the woman was quite rattled, completely taken by surprise, totally vulnerable. There was the slightest hint of a tear in her eyes. That was rare. That was a rare sight indeed. Part of her wanted to console Kaitlyn. The wiser part told her it would be best to simply stay where she was. She knew Kaitlyn could be a terribly cold, calculating woman. This wasn’t going to go down very well. Heads would roll. The question was where the first strike would come from.

Verity nodded, placed a worn hand on her sister-in-law’s clenched fists and said, “Sometimes, out of bad things, good things happen.”

“Yeah? What’s so great about owning this team, about living on this dump for a few months out of the year?” Kaitlyn asked.

Verity smiled and stood. Towering over her sister-in-law, her weakened, defeated, sister-in-law, she said, “There is more to life than business, Kaitlyn. There is more to owning the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers than simply turning a profit. There is tradition, passion, history, and a lot of heart. Now, I think you’re full of poodoo, that little speech about being a fan, I don’t buy any of it. But I think if you come with me, and I show you what I need to show you, maybe, just maybe, I can get you to see why it is that the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers are as well loved on this stinky, crime infested prostitute of a planet.”

Kaitlyn looked up at her sister-in-law, cracked a genuine smile, replied, “Does nothing ever get you down?”

It was over, the 273 playoffs had come to an end for the Mercs with a decided thud. The players had tried their best, but it was clear their minds were elsewhere. Their new mand'alor had announced a general recall of all Mandalorians throughout the galaxy, in order to help find those responsible for the murder of his predecessor as well as to prepare for the Revenge that was sure to follow.

Vhett sighed to herself as she made her way to the League Offices where the Board of Governors meeting was to be held. Even if the Mercs had been on their game the Senators were clearly the better team this past season. They had beaten the Mercs during the regular season and had now beaten them in the playoffs. The Senators deserved their shot at another Cup. But she couldn't focus on that. She had to worry about improving the fortunes of her own team.

In that she was fortunate, her team had few players coming up for free agency this off season (though she knew that situation would be far worse next year). They did lack a first round draft pick, they had used it to trade up last offseason, in order to get Tam. It was a move that had worked out, Tam had showed her usefulness as a player, even if she had been outplayed in her first taste of the playoffs. Still the lack of a first rounder this season was something of an annoyance now to her. She had tried laying the groundwork with several teams for moving up and taking their first rounder in return, but as yet there hadn't been much traction there. She would keep trying, especially as the draft drew near, but deep down she felt that she would have to make due with just her team's two picks.

That brought her thoughts to the meeting to which she was headed. She wasn't sure just what was going to transpire there, but she had heard rumors. Rumors which made her...less then happy. She wished she could put Taab's network of spies and informants to use, she knew they could find out what was going on. But they were busy, elsewhere. She didn't envy them their task.

IC: Beskaryc TaabTeam owners office, Meshla Vhetin, Manda'yaim.

It had been a long week, one in which Taab felt he had aged a decade. Since his installation as mand'alor, Taab had spent his every waking moment trying to determine who had assassinated Ordo, and allowed the leadership of his people to fall into his lap. He had called out to the mando'ade to return home, a call not made since the devastation of the planet by the Vong centuries ago. They had been recalled to rebuild a damaged world, and they had done their job well. Now Taab recalled the warriors of manda'yaim to do what they did best. Make war on the enemies of the mando'ade.

But first they would have to find out who had struck at them. It was no easy task. Though teams of Protectors were already going over what evidence had been collected, thus far little had been learned. In the meantime Taab was having all command infrastructure moved to the Meshla' Vhetin, MandalMotors Hall was no longer seen as secure. Here at least Taab had his own people, people he knew and trusted. He also knew the security system was as infalliable as anywhere in the Galaxy. From here they could plan their revenge in absolute safety.

He left his office and moved down the hallway to the GM's office. His wife was still not here of course, she was busy on Coruscant and the Board of Governor's meeting. He knew she would not be having a good time with that, especially given the team's recent playoffs loss.

He laid a data-pad on her desk, the final instrument of turning day to day ownership of the Mercs to her. She would see it upon her return. It was a job she had done well in both official and unofficial capacities the past few season's, but now they would make it official and public. Taab needed his attention elsewhere.

He removed his buy'ce and looked around his wife's spartan office. There was even less clutter than in his own. Though she did have a chair behind her desk. Taab never could abide chairs in his own office, preferring to do his work standing up. In lighter times he may have hidden away her comfortable leather throne while she was away. But he wasn't in the mood for such frivolity. Instead he made his way back to his office. The hallways in the stadium were empty, it was well past midnight and aside from security staff he was probably the only one working at the moment.

Returning to his own office he noted something was...odd, though it took a moment to realize what it was. The lights were out in his office. The unmistakable *snick* of a blaster's safety being deactivated behind him told him that apparently the security here wasn't as good as he had thought. He started to spin around, to face his attacker, but a voice called out from the darkness and stopped him.

"Don't, we both have blasters aimed at your head."

Both? Taab heard another safety clack off and the door was closed behind him. Taab began to worry, with his bucket off and two blasters held at his head there was no way he could take on two attackers. The second intruder whispered quietly behind him. "Your boys won't be coming to your rescue, we are very good at what we do. No one even knows we are here." The voice seemed familiar, very familiar in fact. The first one spoke again and now that he could place it in context Taab recognized her voice as well. It was unmistakable.

"We've been watching you..." Taab interupted her as realization dawned on him. "So...it was you." His eyes used to the darkness now, the voice in front of him resolved itself. It was a Mandalorian woman. "No Taab, it wasn't us." The safeties clicked on as she removed her bucket confirming her identity. "But we had to make sure that our presence remained a secret."

Taab allowed himself a small smile as he realized the danger had passed, for before him was the visage of Ryi Kor'le, back from the dead.

It was going to be a cold night on Bakura. The Limmie gods had decided not only that this would be a night game for the Solo Conference crown, but that it was also going to be frigid. That wasn’t going to bode well for the offenses who relied on passing attacks, especially for the Senators. The players were going to wear gloves so that they could grip the ball, but when you were stuck out in the cold for several hours, even gloves sometimes didn’t do the trick. The defenses were sure to love this kind of opportunity; if the offenses struggled, perhaps this would be a game more in the favor of the Back 6 units . . . and it would play in Coruscant’s hands if past performance was any indication of how this game would go down.

Gark sat in the comfortable luxury box at the Gardens for the visiting team brass; at least it was warm compared to the field below. This was one of the perks of being a GM, and one of the things he didn’t miss about coaching. Pamila Korthe would have to worry about that now, not him. However, despite all of that, there was still a desire deep in his mind to return to the field in some way. He owed the Miners a major smackdown after his last coached game ended with a 34-point loss, but that wasn’t the whole point. He just felt like there was something missing in his life, which was hard to do at times because he had worked so hard to complete himself over the last year.

Yes, a year had gone by since then. At this time last year, he had been hanging on for dear life as things were collapsing around him. The team had been doing well despite his “death”, but only because Polis had apparently given the team a good smack across the face going into the season finale, and Andrew had done a great job coaching in all three of the games, despite the Senators losing in OT in the Conference Finals to fall just short of playing at Andromeda for the Galactic Cup trophy. It had been difficult to keep Andrew on staff after that run, but he hadn’t wanted to go anywhere else at that point, and Gark had been relieved to know that his offensive coordinator wasn’t running just yet for another team. Limmie was a cutthroat business, and a slew of teams would have liked to have added him as their next head coach.

But a year had also presented new opportunities. He had finally beaten Mornd to avenge his parents’ deaths at his hands, and in the process killed his nemesis. He had found out that the woman he had professed interest in also had feelings for him. He had handed off the reins of the team to someone he trusted with the keys to the franchise from her days with the Senators development affiliate. He had won a Zumtak Award for his service to the game, even though he had been in complete pain the entire time. He had gotten married over the offseason, something that he had beforehand never thought possible for a guy like him. He now had a son to look after, a kid he was going to see the progress over the years and know if he would end up following his father into the coaching ranks, the playing ranks, or ignore Limmie altogether and forge his own path. Now the Senators, relying on its aging veterans, were making one last run with its original core stars, trying to prove to the galaxy that these players, well past their primes, could still perform at a high level and win a championship.

It was time to see what this team was made of.

IC: Pamila KortheLocker Room

“We all know the stakes for this game,” Pam said to her troops in the locker room. “The winner gets to have their moment in the sun with the Conference trophy, and then gets to play next week for the big Cup. The loser goes home and sulks all offseason at what could have been. Last season, this team lost this game, and had to deal with the repercussions until now.

So now I stand before you here, for my first time, in this situation. Many of you have been here before, some of you more times than can be counted on one hand. You know what the stakes are in this game, and what it would mean for this franchise and its fans to go out here and whip the competition. I’ve heard it all week that apparently I have no luck against the Miners. I’m sick of losing to them, in their smug little stadium here and their annoying song and dance routines. I’m tired of seeing them trounce my defense and shut down my offense. It’s time that they get what’s coming to them.

So what if they scored the most points this season? We can shut them down because we can, and because we will. They have the stars, but so do we. Midfield? They may have the prissy brats who make the headlines, and who have been good for so many years. But we are going to teach them a lesson, and make ‘em cry all the way home because we will bring the physicality to them. Defense, you will hold every inch of that ground like your life depends on it. We will switch defenses endlessly out there to keep them guessing, and substitutions will be frequent. We will not relent to their offensive attack, because our defense easily can crush theirs. Exploit their weaknesses, and we can win. And no shot will get into the goal, because tonight we have the better goalies.

It’s time that we show the galaxy that this is our year. The Miners have won their Cup already in this playoff system; it’s our time now. But I also want you to know, that if this is the end of our season, that it’s been an honor coaching you lot. You’ve played real hard this season, and we showed up a lot of critics that thought this team didn’t have a chance to get this far. But the odyssey isn’t over yet; we still have two more games to win. It all starts now. Win and we’re in, lose and we’re out. Go out as winners, and take your prize. It’s time for us to shine.”

It's the Conference Finals, traditionally some of the best limmie of the entire season. Bonus rolls to Bakura and Coruscant. Banked bonus rolls (once again,
@jcgoble3 may credit them as his discretion for LFL) to Mando'ade, Nar Shaddaa, and Rydonni Prime.

"Gentlebeings, please welcome Elite League Vice President and General Counsel Esther Gondorf for the presentation of the Solo Conference Championship Trophy," the public address announcer said.

A large number of Miner fans were already leaving, holding zero interest in seeing the Senators crowned the conference champions. Some stayed out of interest and respect, but they were in the minority.

Gondorf stood at center field next to a hastily set up table draped with a cloth bearing the Elite League shield. "Congratulations to both teams on a hard-fought game and excellent seasons," Gondorf said into the microphone she'd been provided with, "It is my pleasure to present Dirxx Horste with the Solo Conference Championship Trophy."

When the captain came over, Gondorf extended her hand in the general direction of the Besalisk's arms. She didn't exactly know which one to shake, but she figured that he'd go with whichever one he wanted.

What had promised to be an offensive shootout in the Solo Conference Finals between the Coruscant Senators and the Bakura Miners was shaping out to be anything but. Both teams, which had struggled against the other defensively in the Week 3 matchup at Andromeda Steel Corp. Stadium on Coruscant, had come out to play in this one. It was apparent from the opening kickoff that both teams were willing to dig in and break the offenses’ backs from the opposition. As such, the game became a real grind, one that Bakura obviously wasn’t used to. But the Senators were.

Aron Rodders scored the opening goal, as expected, by beating Jerek Deter on his feet and then planting and firing. Jayla Leed came very close to making a play, but a slight mental error before the throw cost her the play on the ball. 3-0 Miners. Leed shrugged off the goal and kicked the ball back into play. The third-year goalie was getting better at her job, having gone 3-1 as a starter in the regular season after filling in for Venn Sto in the Bakura game. She had shut down the Mercs the previous week, holding them to a measly 10 points when they came in with the second-highest scoring offense in the league. But now she would have her hands full with the high-flying Miners, who had scored over 200 points in just seven games (including one crapfest for them in the Week 7 matchup, meaning that they had scored almost 200 in just six games, an almost unimaginable feat). Her work was going to be cut out for her here, and Gark knew that she needed a great game here to vindicate herself from the critics that said she didn’t have the skills to play goalie in the Elite League. Gark had often thought the same thing, but he hoped for the sake of the team that he was wrong in that regard.

The Senator offense set up its next play. Alysha Romax held the ball in the middle of the field, Alana Glencross trying to keep an eye on her counterpart. Demetra Silkins was fighting Everett North for position, but then was given the pass as Alysha came across the field. Demetra then faked to the left, freezing North, and then rolled out to the right. North, realizing his mistake, followed doggedly, trying to make up for his error. Demetra kept rolling out, trying to find someone, anyone, to take the ball off her hands who was wearing gray and black. She saw a swarm of blue and gold in the area, the Miner defenders trying to blanket the Senator attack. Option 1, Polis Vayne, was being double-teamed by Ruunron and Uncia by the goal, Option 2, Max Qorbus, was being hounded by another defender, Option 3, Moen Heatly, had to try and break free from a near stranglehold, and was thus unable to come around to make a play. Option 4, Riff Persnor, had slipped on the turf and went down as he tried to open up a curl route to get open. All four of the main options were out of the picture, so Demetra immediately went to her security blanket option on this play; Syprul Raches, the 268 Numifolis Award winner, former Assistant Captain of the 265 team, and the guy who had coined the term “Alley-Oop” in Limmie with his play in the season finale against the Ralltiir Starkillers in 272, was open. Demetra passed him the ball, and the Shistavanen went to work. He backed down in the post to keep the last Miner defender at bay, and then spun around. Keeping the ball high, he picked his spot and fired. The ball nailed the crossbar at high speed, careening off right at Polis. The assistant captain jumped up, but so did Anton Jorpik. For a split second, it was a rematch of Polis against a goalie; the last time this had happened, it hadn’t gone so well for Meredith Chambers, who had been knocked out cold right on the field via Polis’ fist. Jorpik jumped late, and Polis smashed the ball with his fist past Jorpik’s outstretched hands. The ball nailed the frigid ground and bounced into the back of the net. Goal for Polis Vayne, 3-3 Tie.

“We’re really going to miss him next year,” Gark remarked as Polis celebrated down on the field.

“But don’t we have some good prospects down in the Futures League?” Me’lin asked. She was sitting next to her husband, as always, at the game.

“I think we do, but you can’t simply replace Polis Vayne,” Gark said. “Hell, you can’t just ‘replace’ any of those legends out there on the field. We can try, but it will be hard to fill the voids left behind by their retirements.”

The teams then dug in, trying to keep the other team from getting any good looks at points. The Senator defense started to have its way with the Miner offense, keeping Rodders in check by utilizing the bump-and-run tactic. First, Alysha or Izzi Polakaya, who was seeing a lot of action today due to her defensive skills, would bump Rodders off the line as the Miners advanced the ball. Then Ortho Dyhon or Zummarroroo, the swingman, would get in their shot and keep Rodders off balance. If they could keep the “haloed” man from being able to spring free and have his way with the Senator defense, then they could lock down the rest of the Miner attack. Rodders seemed to be the key here, so taking him out would force the rest of the team to step it up. Time after time, the ball was forced into the hands of the other forwards, namely Dorf Landa, who wasn’t exactly utilized as a scorer in their offense. The Senators defense was there to make the play, whether that was the starters or the reserves. In came Salata, Reena Wyley, Evis Kunat, the Zabrak super-sub . . . they all held the line and didn’t let the Miners get anything for free. Kunat slammed down Nancheka Stormborn after she caught a pass, causing the ball to fall to the turf, after which a scrum ensued. Doon’sun, the backup Full Back, kicked the ball, ricocheting it off of a Miner player and into the hands of Jerek. The corner back then hurled the ball up the field to a waiting Polis. Polis then fed Moen for a shot over the bar. In a defensive struggle, points were at a premium, so when Moen saw that he had the shot, he took it.

At halftime, the score was tied at 6. Both offenses looked beat, but the defenses were strong and up to the fight of another half. The Miner crowd was happy to see that their defense was keeping the third-ranked Senator scoring offense at bay, but unhappy that their own offense was being shut down as well.

Gark stood up and stretched during the intermission, all the while unsure of what was going to occur in the second half. It was turning out to be an interesting game, to say the least. The Ylesia-Vandelhelm game earlier had also been interesting, but most media pundits had tagged this game as the one to see out of the two. And neither team was disappointing the fans at home thus far.

“Do you think we have a chance to win?” Londy Whiste asked. He had made the trip out here after attending the Board of Governors meeting days earlier with the League Commissioner.

“Well, considering that they scored 37 on us last time, yet only have six points at halftime now, I say we have good odds,” Gark replied. “We just need to break through their defense and finish ‘em off.”

And that’s what the Senators did. Polis broke through a tackle by T.K. Kutel and smashed home another goal to make the score 9-6 in favor of Coruscant. On the following possession, Rodders passed to Corrie Andersen. The former Smuggler tried to make a play, but her cleat got stuck in the turf. Shev Fil’yer, Noghri Full Back, came in and laid the lumber down on Andersen, who then crumpled to the turf in pain. It took a few minutes to get her off the field, but the effect seemed to linger. The Miners had lost another piece of their offense, and what momentum they had seemed to die out. A goal by Rodders, who had gotten free from a double-team, was it for them in the game.

A goal by Demetra Silkins, who had come in for a gassed Izzi Polakaya, pushed the lead to 14-9 with 5 minutes left. This pushed the lead to 5 for Coruscant, and took the wind out of the sails of the Miner fans. Gark liked what he saw from Silkins; she was making plays when it counted, and she and Alysha had certainly done their job in the middle of the field, plus Izzi for her work and Laryssa for providing a change-of-pace option off the bench. The midfielders for the Senators were simply overpowering Glencross and North, who were beat down by the fresher Senator players.

As the last minutes ticked down, Rodders tried to use his superstar status to make things happen. But the Senators wouldn’t allow it. Out came Evis Kunat and Salata to keep the defensive zone in place, allowing Zummarroroo to come in off the edge and shadow Rodders the entire way. When he dodged the Wookiee, in came Ortho Dyhon for a nice pick that pushed Rodders out of the way. Andersen’s replacement took a wild shot that had no chance of going in, and the ball was collected in the deep portion of the Senator defensive zone.

1 minute left. The crowd was out of it now, and Coach Valerii was going to make a suicide play. Her players rushed the Senator goal, which was now reinforced by an all-hands team of defenders. Even Kapp Pyston, the backup goaltender, was out to shadow Jayla in goal, trying to keep his hands available in case the ball got past the outside box zone. Every few second the Miners tried to push the ball across, but they ran into the wall created by the Senator defenders. Precious seconds ticked off, but the Miners couldn’t do anything.

Then the horn blared, and the game was over. The Senators celebrated at midfield, knowing that they had punched their ticket to the Galactic Cup Finals for the first time since 269, when they had come oh-so-close to going 9-0 on the year save for two heartbreaking losses to Vandelhelm. Their opponents would be the Ylesia Lightning, whom they had never played before. It was going to be a newcomer versus heavyweight matchup next week at Eusebus, Euceron, but for now the Senators were content with winning the Solo Conference title.

The Miner fans were filing out in droves, not wanting to see the Senators be named Conference champions this season. It was a reversal from last year for Coruscant, when they had been the team walking away with their heads held down low in the Conference Finals. But they had busted their demons and were now here awaiting the chance to take home the Galactic Cup trophy the next week. Gark had now joined the team down on the field, knowing that his presence there would be mandatory for the team. After all, he had given them something to strive towards all year, and had assembled this team in the first place.

"Gentlebeings, please welcome Elite League Vice President and General Counsel Esther Gondorf for the presentation of the Solo Conference Championship Trophy," the public address announcer said. The small Senator contingent was ready for this moment; they had waited a while for this to occur again, so they weren’t about to rush the moment.

Gondorf stood at center field next to a hastily set up table draped with a cloth bearing the Elite League shield. "Congratulations to both teams on a hard-fought game and excellent seasons," Gondorf said into the microphone she'd been provided with, "It is my pleasure to present Dirxx Horste with the Solo Conference Championship Trophy."

Dirxx ambled over to the table, and then shook Gondorf’s hand. It was interesting to see which hand he was going to use, given that he had four to pick from. But all jokes were put aside when he got to lift the conference trophy, which the Senators had not been able to do before. They had come close, but now their journey to the Conference title had been completed.

“Nice win,” Gark said when he got to talk to his team captain. “You didn’t make it pretty, but since when have we ever won a game that way?”

“I’m just glad this part is over,” Dirxx said. “Now we get one more chance to take the big hardware home.”

“I noticed that you decided to take this trophy instead of ignoring it completely,” Gark said with a wry smile, referring to Glencross’ insistence on not taking the Commissioner’s Trophy when it was offered to her three weeks earlier.

“When I’m offered hardware, I’m taking it,” Dirxx said with a smile. “Hopefully this won’t be the last one I get to pick up.”

“I hear you on that one,” Gark said. Now the team had to shift gears to get ready for the Galactic Cup Finals. But, before they could do that, the Elite League Awards were looming in a few days. Gark had told himself that he wouldn’t attend had the Senators not made the Finals, given that he wanted to spend some time with his family for a few days instead, but since his team was going to play for the Cup, he knew that he had to go. If nothing else, he could at least be there to support Polis and Pamila Korthe, who had both been nominated for awards. Hopefully he wouldn’t be in complete pain like he had been the previous year . . .

Finally, everyone on the team got to hold the Conference trophy, and then the team retreated back to the locker room to the cheers of the Senator faithful. Although their work wasn’t done, at least they had a reason to celebrate.

There was very little chatter in the owner's box today. A tight playoff game did that, apparently. And of course it would be a tight game against Coruscant. It was always that way against Coruscant, it seemed. Ayn found herself tensing up at every potentially big play. The Chancellor was prone to verbal outbursts of, "Come on!" or "Argh!" or "Yes!" depending on the situation and her family was following suit. Next to Ayn, Regan had a cocktail napkin in her hand that she was ripping into tiny pieces as the game progressed. Ayn simply clenched her hands into fists whenever she got anxious.

As the first half drew on, Ayn was concerned. The consensus was that Valerii was going to dare Korthe to stop her offense. It seemed Korthe had not only accepted the challenge, but she was winning too. The Miners were being largely shut down, despite the Valerii cycle method. Coruscant had slipped into being-to-being coverage. It was clearly running the Senators ragged--but their deep bench allowed frequent substitutions to keep fresh legs out there. The Valerii-Cundertol method was to rely heavily on starters and play them as much as possible. This meant that even if the Miner forwards were better than the starting Coruscant defenders and the subsequent reserves, both of them had plenty of energy to take on the movement-heavy cycle.

"Maker damn you, Korthe," Ayn said towards the end of the first half, "Have you finally been the one to figure this offense out?"

"Don't even say it," Regan said sharply.

"I don't think whether I say it is going to affect its truth," Ayn quipped. Nerves were a little frayed, it seemed.

"At this point I don't care," Regan said, "If superstition will win this game, then I'm going with it."

Whether it was skill, fate, luck, or the Force to blame the first half ended at 6-6. It was turning out to be a heck of a game. In fact, historically Miner home Semifinals were absolute disasters of games on both ends of the field. For it to be 6-6 was an improvement over the normal state of things.

"Can you believe that little lizard?" Fiona said, "He sucks all season and now Ruunron actually plays defense for a change? Where was this for the last seven games?"

"He has no sense of timing, that's for sure," Siona replied.

Ayn was not paying attention to this debate on the merits of the Trandoshan defender. She had maneuvered over to Declan. It was time to face things, one way or another. "Declan, I--"

The Triestes clustered around the vidscreen in the box. Though not foolproof, the HSN rankings were the most influential draftee rankings for the Elite League Draft. How a player got ranked in them could decide the fate of their career. A low ranking and they might not even get drafted. Undrafted entry level players did not meet a very good fate on the Elite League free agent market. Some of them didn't even make it into the Premier League. As a high profile player, Falene was to be included in HSN's rankings even though she had yet to actually declare for the draft. The people at HSN Sports were smart enough to know that the entire galaxy wanted to see how the Supreme Chancellor's daughter was going to stack up against the competition.

It was a very weak year at goalkeeper, it seemed, as only two players made HSN's rankings as probable draft players. "I would have liked to have seen more in there," Kerry said, "Cundertol could use picking up a back up for Jorpik. He's been inconsistent at best."

"Give him a decent defense and I think he'll be better than the League average," Atticus said, "He has skill."

"You're too generous, Atticus," Regan said.

"Shush!" Siona said. HSN was coming to the defensive rankings.

"First overall in defense is Net Benneb, Full Back out of Grand Vulpter System University," came the announcement.

"Meh," Ayn said, joined by the rest of the box. Benneb wasn't on anybody's radar, but then again no one in this crowd followed the Super 16 very closely at all.

"Second, Falene Trieste--"

The cries of joy drowned out the rest of the announcement as the Chancellor hugged her daughter and everyone else crowded around her to extend their personal congratulations, Ayn included. Second overall in defense in a very deep defensive year was incredible. If Falene entered the Draft--which Ayn highly doubted--she'd probably be a top 5 pick unless a lot of teams neglected their defense. If she didn't and signed with the Miners, it would be an incredible coup to pull in the second defensive prospect overall for them.

"Congratulations," Ayn said when it came time for her turn to give Falene her personal congratulations, "You earned this."

"Thanks Ayn. Thanks," Falene said. She was clearly not at her most articulate, basking in the glow of the news.

It was good news, very good news, and the Noble House had something to celebrate, regardless of how the second half went. Ayn realized this was as good a time as any for her to try that conversation with Declan again. She found him looking at the vidscreen.

"Anything interesting in the rest of the rankings?" Ayn asked to ease her way into the conversation.

"Yeah. Deenever and Song, second and last overall in offense. D'jukk, second to last overall in defense. No respect for Bak10 players. None at all," Declan said shaking his head.

"Except for Falene," Ayn pointed out.

Declan turned and looked at his sister, in the middle of a knot of her relatives. "I'm afraid for her, Ayn," he said quietly, "I'm so afraid."

Ayn's chest tightened. She put a hand on Declan's shoulder as she followed his gaze. "Why?"

"I'm afraid she isn't as good as everyone says she is," he elaborated, "That's she's second overall because she's the Chancellor's daughter. And I'm scared that when she gets down there for real, whoever she's with, she's going to find out and it's going to crush her. That would hurt my family very hard, perhaps more than anything in a long time. Or ever."

"The Bak10 and Elite League Limmie are totally different things," Declan said turning back to Ayn, "If they're ranking a dominant half forward like Deenever and the top scorer in the entire conference at the bottom of their offensive rankings, how good can Falene possibly be."

Ayn didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing for a second. "I hope you're wrong," was the best she could come up with.

"I hope I am too," Declan said.

"Declan--"

"Wait, Ayn," he interrupted, "You said some things to me the last time that we saw each other, things I've had to think about. You said..." Declan lost whatever words he was trying to find. "You said that you'd felt things for me. For quite some time, in fact."

"I meant it," Ayn said. Her hand had slipped from its shoulder.

"I know. I've known you long enough to know that kind of thing," he said, "And yet I've known you all that time and I never thought..." Once again, he words trailed off.

"Declan, if those feelings are just mine, I understand," Ayn said, "You don't need to tell me anything else. I--"

"The truth is that after Truce Day, when I went back to the Valley, I was scared. Terrified. It was because perhaps...perhaps I might feel the same," he said, "and the thought that perhaps I would have this thing, this thing that everyone says is the thing most worth having in the entire galaxy was scary. I didn't know what to do with it. I still don't know what to do with it."

"That's okay," Ayn whispered, "Scary things are often the most important things. And I've been scared of you, of telling you this, of all of it for a very long time. Maybe we should be scared together and find out where this goes. And wherever it goes, then it does. And if it doesn't go other places, then we'll have at least traveled as far as we should."

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves," Declan said.

"No, of course not," Ayn said with a smile.

And yet, she knew. This was going places.

Despite the good news for Falene and with Declan, the second half was pretty miserable. Even though the Miners defense was playing vastly better than it had in the regular season, it wasn't enough to keep the Senators off the board. The loss of Andersen clearly hurt the Miners. With one of his two passing threats gone, Rodders was suddenly easier for the Senators to key in on. Ayn had to give him credit. Rodders played his heart out for the Miners. He did everything he could to pick that team up and carry it to victory, just like he'd done all season long. It was an admirable display of athleticism, but it was clear that if Rodders was going to be everything the Miners had, it wasn't going to be enough.

And so the Miners season ended. Painfully, depressingly, it ended. Like the seven home Semifinals that had come before it, the Miners lost. Like the three playoff games against Coruscant before it, the Miners lost. The usually diplomatic Kerry Trieste did not tarry to be seen politely applauding her opponents. She got out of her seat and into the back of the box where the holocameras did not penetrate with as much speed as possible. It was clear to Ayn that this loss stung particularly, just as it had to do for every Commissioner's Trophy winner who saw so much effort in the regular season go out the window with no Galactic Cup to cap it off.

Ayn knew as she left the Gardens in the cold night that there would be a lot of scrutiny of this team, of what went wrong, of what needed to be fixed, of who should stay, of who should go, of what should have been, of what would be. There would be an entire offseason for that.

For right now Ayn Dormingale left all of that behind. She hailed an airtaxi and got inside.

A drink with Declan was the best way she could think of to cap off a disappointing night--even if it had been marked with spurts of good news. In fact, Ayn knew in some deep spot in her body that it was the way she would end many nights to come.

The bar was a real dump. Weeks old vomit still stained the floor from the last person who’d had too much to drink and the sounds of the ever moving city flowed in through the open door as smoke wafted heavy and thick in the chilling air. This inner city bar that catered to thugs and anyone of the criminal persuasion was not usually the place to frequent if you acted like you had money, actually had money, or even looked like you had lots of money.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, an older holoscreen in the corner, pockmarked all around by blaster scorches on the walls, was showing the Senators-Miners game. Tonight, old hatreds could be put aside as the criminal element of Nar Shaddaa united to watch the game that would determine who went to the Galactic Cup. People who normally wouldn’t share a drink together did. People who normally wouldn’t even go out to this seedy bar did. People who simply wanted to watch two hated rivals beat the tar out of one another, well, did. Even Limmie greats occasionally disappeared into the seedy underworld of Nar Shaddaa to get away from the media that haunted the other upper class joints.

Enter Meredith Chambers and Sasha Luy’kin who were greeted with a few whistles and slaps on the back from the mainly male bar crowd. No disguises were needed here and everyone understood that you didn’t pester the two Limmie stars with pointless questions, requests for autographs, or other trivial desires. Everyone needed a break and the Smuggler’s Den was the perfect place to get that kind of blue-collar respect.

Meredith slipped into a corner booth and ordered the local pale ale. Flicking her hair about her, she gave a short smile to Sasha as her eyes caught sight of movement on the holoscreen. Her heart fluttered, skipped a few beats, as she heard the roar of the crowd, sending chills down her spine. She knew that sound so well. Could almost tell you which crowd that cheer usually came from but she was no longer a player, she was a spectator, she was ancient history.

“Vayne’s playing pretty well tonight,” Sasha commented.

“I’ll say,” Meredith replied.

“Think he can take them back to the Final?”

“He won’t be doing it all by himself, Sash,” Meredith said.

“Right,” Sasha said as she sipped her ale.

“They’re changing up their attack,” Meredith observed as the Miners came screeching down the field against Leed.

“Oh, this can’t end well, Rodders has got the backs out of position,” Sashsa said.

“Come on Leed, don’t fall for the bait,” Meredith said through gritted teeth. She knew most of Rodder’s ploys. The guy had a cannon for an arm and was deadly accurate. The long ball was one of his strong suits. “Tighten it up, girl, keep your body low, ready, hands up, hands up!” Meredith roared over the noise of the bar.

A few patrons looked back at Meredith. Even in their drunken haze, they knew someone who played ball professionally could never really let it go, Limmie was in her blood.
Rodders fired and Leed was able to match the attack perfectly deflecting the shot and powering it back to Deter who threaded it down the seam for Raches.

“You called that one,” Sasha observed. “You going to be okay watching this game? I can have them change it if you want.”

“No, no, we watch this game,” Meredith replied, pounding down her ale. “Come on Vayne, you have to try harder than that. Jorpik isn’t going to let you in that easy!”

“Yeah, well, keep it down. You keep cheering like that, well, I can’t protect you from what’ll happen,” Sasha warned.

The Senators stopped another Miner’s attack and the ball bounced around the offensive zone before Vayne snapped it up in his sure hands. Meredith watched him power through the Miner’s defense, eyeing up Jorpik’s movements. The guy had talent, maybe a little raw around the edges, but he could go far. Except tonight was not the night to start playing defense. Tonight was the night when Jorpik should’ve been building on a solid foundation, not creating one and Meredith could tell that Vayne smelled blood. He was going in for the kill.

Vayne sidestepped a Miners defender and was open for a fairly easy shot into the goal. Jorpik tensed, tried to anticipate what Vayne was going to do, and Meredith merely shook her head as she finished her ale and called for another. She knew what was coming. Vayne had the poor guy right where he wanted him.

In a matter of seconds, Vayne had punched the ball into the goal, just high and away from Jorpik’s outstretched hands.

“That’s my guy! Damn, I love that man!” Meredith cheered.

Everyone in the bar went silent. As if one body, one mind, they turned and looked at Meredith Chambers with confusion and a hint of anger in their eyes.

“Sorry,” Meredith said to the bar and sat back down.

Sasha leaned over to Meredith and asked, “Okay, girl, you want to tell me what that was all about?”

IC: Kaitlyn VehnBoard of Governors Meeting, Coruscant

Kaitlyn strode into the Board of Governors meeting early wearing a nice fitting professional suit that seemed to exude confidence, power, and a deeper understanding of how Elite League Limmie worked. She chit-chatted with a few of the other owners, introducing herself, before settling down in the chair designated for the owner of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers.

As she jotted down a few notes for the upcoming meeting, Kaitlyn couldn’t help but reflect on the tour of Six Boroughs stadium that Verity had given her. The stadium was in ill repair and not up to standards of a modern Limmie sporting facility. She had been warned by those with some information on League dealings that it was highly unlikely that Nar Shaddaa would be awarded another Final given the current state of the stadium. Kaitlyn knew she couldn’t ask the taxpayers of Nar Shaddaa, a very small minority who actually filed, to fund the operation. Therefore, any upgrades to Six Boroughs, any complete overhaul, had to come from her own coffers. That made her mad. That made her furious at the status quo. That made her go into this meeting with a chip on her shoulder and she was ready to tear Esther Gondorf or Niakara Kayl’hen herself to shreds if they balked at the Smugglers throwing their name in for the 274 Final site bidding.

Even more aggravating were the rumors as to what this meeting was to really be about. Kaitlyn couldn’t put much stock into what was being said. Idle gossip, most likely, but the rumor mill had been picking up steam in recent weeks as the meeting approaching. This wasn’t the time to be sticking out above the crowd, differences over stadium feasibility and final site location be damned. This was her time to watch and learn. To strike when she was ready and pin the League down right where she wanted them.

But all of that would take time.

She was pretty sure that if push came to shove she could rely on the Bakura Miners and Coruscant Senators for some sort of political support, but Mando’ade, that was the wild-card.

Kaitlyn watched as Aay’han Vhett entered the room and sat down across from her. Kaitlyn stared at Aay’han for a long while. So you know how to play hard, do you? Vehn thought as her mind whirred over the mysterious reports that had come out of Kamino involving the owner of the Mercs, Beskaryc Taab. She wasn’t entirely certain that Vhett was innocent in the matter but she did not have concrete evidence to prove anything at this point, only intuition and some whispers in the corners of the darker chambers of the RTO. And suddenly the light came on for her. If she did have evidence, if she did have a way to connect the disturbance on Kamino with the Mandalorians, perhaps that would help her get back into power as Chairwoman of the RTO. Maybe then those fools on the Board of Tribunes would finally pay her the respect she deserved.

And so Kaitlyn, remembering her proper upbringing on Druckenwell extended a hand across the table to this deadly woman of the Mando’ade Mercs and said, “Kaitlyn Vehn, Nar Shaddaa Smugglers. I look forward to getting to know you.”

I realize the late picks of the first round cut close to the July 4 holiday. Accordingly, if you are going to be out of town, please alert me as soon as possible so accommodations can be made. Your plans to spend the holiday with friends and family are more important than this game, so everything possible will be done to accommodate. (Alternatively, you can just all trade me your first round draft picks for "cash considerations" and not have to worry about it. That's allowed. ) I have given a full week to do the second and third rounds (no individual round deadlines this time around) due to July 4. There will be no skipping during this time so barbeque without cowering in fear of losing a draft pick.

GM PostEusebus, Euceron“Gentlebeings, welcome to the 273 Elite League Limmie Awards Ceremony,” Niakara Kayl’hen said to the assembled crowd in the large hall where not even three years ago the first-ever Elite League Draft had taken place, “It is wonderful to be here on Euceron, which is currently the center of athletic activity in the galaxy. Before we go any further, I would like to thank Eusebus for hosting this year’s Awards Ceremony and the Galactic Cup Final and the Euceron Storm for everything they’ve done for this season’s festivities.“So, without further ado, let’s get right to the awards,” the Bothan said, “Tonight’s first award recognizes the player with the best season of all rookie players in the league. Our nominees are: Jaya Tam, Mando’ade Mercs; Zoa Vra, Ylesia Lightning; and Ema Zostin, Rydonni Prime Monarchs.” As was usual, applause followed each name and each player was shown on screen.“Our winner is: Zoa Vra, Ylesia Lightning in an incredibly close vote.”“The Grames Award recognizes the best general manager in the Elite League. It is these figures who work all year long to put together a championship team. Our nominees this season went above and beyond the call to do just that,” Kayl’hen said, “They are Setarcos Rhemes of Rydonni Prime, Yore Vext Ten of Vandelhelm, and Aay’han Vhett of Mando’ade.“The winner…in a tight vote,” Kayl’hen said, “is Aay’han Vhett of the Mando’ade Mercs.”“The Zumtak Award is given to the player who best personifies perseverance and dedication to the sport of limmie. This season there were four nominees who were especially deserving of this award. They are Meredith Chambers of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers in recognition of an outstanding thirteen year career; K’ntarr Sports Entertainment Group, owners of the Rydonni Prime Monarchs, for the expansion of limmie throughout the Colonies; the Noble House of Trieste, owners of the Bakura Miners, for fostering limmie on Bakura for over 60 years; and Jaya Tam of the Mando’ade Mercs for perseverance during her rookie season.“Our winner is—in a landslide—Meredith Chambers of the Nar Shaddaa Smugglers.”“The Langann Award recognizes the best head coach in the Elite League and all three of our nominees this season took their teams to the playoffs and combined for a record of 14-7 on the season, a .666 winning percentage, in a year where only two out of nine other teams had winning records. I think it’s safe to say it’s a very deserving group,” Kayl’hen remarked.“Our nominees are Pamile Korthe of the Coruscant Senators, Gaeriel Valerii of the Bakura Miners, and Adenn Vizsla of the Mando’ade Mercs,” Kayl’hen said, “And our winner…by a large margin…is Gaeriel Valerii.”IC: Ayn DormingaleCape Suzette, BakuraAyn was sitting at home watching the Elite League awards. The sting of the loss to Coruscant was beginning to fade, though it had been taken very hard. The media on Bakura was only now starting to reduce its complaining about the Miners’ total inability to win a home game in the Semifinal. Words like “unacceptable,” “disgraceful,” and “pathetic” were being regularly used. It was not very pretty, but the truth was that nothing about the Miners loss was pretty. The Senators’ strength had been better than the Miners’ strength and that was never a pretty thing to have to face up to.But even more than that, the comments that Quinn Cundertol had made on locker cleanout day at the Gardens had garnered significant attention.“My Sithspit doesn't work in the playoffs. My job is to get us to the playoffs. What happens after that is frakking luck,” Cundertol had said. Well, that’s what Ayn assumed he said. Certain words had been bleeped out in the broadcasts.The words had generated a lot of debate. In three of his four seasons Cundertol had succeeded in getting them to the playoffs. It could be argued that being saddled with a head coach he didn’t believe in for that fourth season explained that away. Even with a Cup to his name, however, people were beginning to talk about the Miners’ early playoff exits and whether Cundertol was just trying to cover his failings or if he actually had a point.What people were not talking about anymore was whether Gaeriel Valerii was part of the problem. As the Miner head coach walked up to the stage to accept the Langann to the applause of the hall, Ayn knew that she had done a truly tremendous job this season. She’d taken a team with the worst overall defense straight to a Commissioner’s Trophy. It was very unfortunate that the Miners had lost. They deserved better (and Ayn strongly believed the Senators deserved nothing—she was not going to be part of the chorus singing paeans to the retiring Senators). But at least one being was getting what she deserved.“Wow,” Valerii said as she looked at the Langann in her hands, “As I think about some of the beings who’ve held this before me, like my former coach Dana Roslyn, like Tover Micjaa—a being I played against when he was on the pitch and on the sideline—I really can’t believe that I’m the one holding it here. I’ve got a lot of beings to thank. Quinn Cundertol for believing in me when he could have hired a lot of coaches with more experience and bigger names, Kerry Trieste for approving the choice, my entire team for buying into the system and playing their hearts out. But most of all the Miner fans. You’ve always been behind us, behind me, even when you’ve been angry and disappointed, but I’ve always believed that strong emotion like that can only come from real passion. I’d take you over a bunch of feel-good rubber stamp fans any day. Thanks everyone. This is a true honor.”Valerii left the stage to applause and Ayn sat back in her couch.Yeah, Gaeriel Valerii got it.GM PostEusebus, Euceron“The Duchess Eldin Award recognizes players who demonstrate both athletic achievement and sportsmanship in a season. In all honesty, this is one of my favorite awards,” Niakara said, “because I’ve always felt that its nominees represent limmie at its finest. It’s my particular pleasure to honor three players tonight as Duchess Eldin nominees. They are Meredith Chambers, Nar Shaddaa Smugglers; Chenkabuk, Euceron Storm; and Mara Singus, Rydonni Prime Monarchs.“And our winner is…in our third landslide of the night, Meredith Chambers.”“And with that we come to our final award of the night, perhaps the most coveted award of the entire evening,” Kayl’hen said, “The Salbukk Award to the Elite League most valuable player. We have three nominees who played truly outstanding seasons, without whom their teams would not have gone as far as they did. They are Argo Mor’kesh of the Mando’ade Mercs, Aron Rodders of the Bakura Miners, and Polis Vayne of the Coruscant Senators.“The winner of the 273 Salbukk Award is…in our second shockingly close vote of the evening: Polis Vayne of the Coruscant Senators.”IC: Ayn DormingaleCape Suzette, BakuraIn disgust Ayn flipped off her holo projector. She wasn’t going to watch Vayne take another victory lap and revel in yet another award, especially not after the Conference Final.“Ridiculous,” she spat out, “Utterly ridiculous.” The Noble House losing was one thing—Meredith Chambers richly deserved the Zumtak. Besides, as much as Ayn liked the Chancellor it did her good to have to sit there in the hall at Euceron and actually lose a vote for a change (Ayn wondered whether her smile had cracked at all when Chambers had been announced—if she’d been smart Trieste would have practiced it beforehand). But Rodders, a being without whom the Miners likely would have been a non-playoff team (heck, given the state of their defense they probably wouldn’t have even have won three games without him) not getting league MVP? There was no justice in that.She got off her couch. She had much better things to do with her time than sit and listen to Polis Vayne.

Ayn looked at her calendar. She'd be headed to the Valley tomorrow—to see Declan after a little business. That was much better indeed.GM PostEusebus, Euceron“Gentlebeings, thank you all for coming tonight. That concludes the 273 Elite League Season Awards. I look forward to seeing some of our nominees and winners again in a few short days for the Galactic Cup Final. I hope that we’ll see you all at Euceron Stadium there too,” Kayl’hen said, wrapping things up.TAG:
@Bardan_Jusik
@CPL_Macja
@jcgoble3
@Jedi Gunny
@JediMaster1511
@Rebecca_Daniels
@VehnOOC note for posterity: The awards were either total blowouts or extremely close. The Salbukk (Rodders and Vayne) and Ingbrand (Vra and Tam) were ties and decided by die rolls. The Grames was a three way horse race won by a vote. However, all other awards were won by very wide margins (though we did not have our first unanimous award win in game history, but we came close with two awards that had only one vote for a non-winner).

No matter how you sliced it, for the second season in a row Setarcos was standing before the media trying to put a positive spin on an otherwise disappointment of a season, and it was all due to the Smugglers. At least this time he had a winning season to fall back on. “What can I say? The last time we had a 4-3 record we were on top of the Solo Conference. But seriously, I am disappointed that we were once again on the outside looking in on the post-season. This is yet another reason why we are confident that the addition of Byblos Red Wings to our organization will bring about positive returns.”

Setarcos then quickly shifted gears and changed the subject. “Speaking of the Red Wings, it is my distinct pleasure to announce that Julla Ehennifer has been promoted to Head Coach on Byblos and will be joined by former Monarchs Stella Nighe, Adam Maas, and Nona Shaman as Offensive, Defensive, and Midfield/Goalkeepers coaches, respectively.”

Murmurs flew around the room as most speculated that after the lackluster performance of the offense, for the second season in a row, that Julla was going to be released. Meanwhile, others were chuckling at the fact that Setarcos called Julla being sent down to a lower-tier team to head them up a promotion, when most viewed as a demotion. “Now, allow me to introduce to you the man who will be taking over the offense, the former field commander himself, Beks Vidda.”

Beks entered the Press Room and walked up to stand beside Setarcos. “Beks’ number 32 will be retired in a ceremony prior to our first 274 friendly. Welcome back Cap. In other team news, it pains me to report that the Midfield tandem of Clarisse and Thalia have been traded to Euceron for their two third rounders in the 274 Draft. We wish both Clarisse and Thalia the best of luck, except when playing the Monarchs of course.”

Setarcos looked over at the entrance, while everyone in the room got a good chuckle over his comment. A familiar sight, Variise in a tight fitting business suit, moved just within his field a vision, yet still shielded from the pool of reporters. She tapped her left wrist as if she was wearing a chronometer, telling him it was time to go. “Well, that is all the time we have for today. Thank you for coming.”

As he walked out of the room he grabbed the blonde owner by the back of the neck and pulled her in for a kiss. “Hey good lookin’ what’s the rush?” Variise just smiled and pointed towards an approaching figure behind Setarcos. As he turned around to see who was coming, his face was violently greeted by the palm of the new arrival’s hand. “You son-ova-bith! So this is the skank that you’ve been cheating on me with?”, shrieked Julla.

Setarcos recovered, massaging his jaw, “Technically, I was seeing her first. Now, unless I am mistaken, aren’t you late to catch your flight to Byblos?” The GM just gave her a wink, linked arms with Variise, and turned towards his private lift. Meanwhile the Red Wings’ head coach turned and headed towards the small shuttle that had been awaiting her arrival.

Cruth walked up to the podium once more, this time to get to the most important part of the night’s festivities. This was when he got to announce the nominees for the 273 Helmsman Award, and ultimately the winner. This was when someone’s career would get a major boost, although no longer was winning the Award a guarantee of being the top overall pick in the subsequent Elite League Draft. However, with strong players having won in the last few years, including Numifolis winner Max Qorbus, now of the Coruscant Senators, Jalin Mioree blasting his way through the ranks for the Euceron Storm, and Ye’ves’toung, the young Chiss midfielder for the Ralltiir Starkillers. Being a Helmsman winner meant something in the galaxy, and now it was time to see who would be named this year’s winner.

“Ladies and gentlebeings, it has been a very intriguing year in the college ranks. And tonight we have the culmination of the season in the presentation of the Helmsman Memorial Trophy, given to the best college player in the galaxy. As many of you know, winning this award provides not just headlines from tonight, but also guarantees a high spot in the upcoming Elite League Draft, so there is a lot at stake for our nominees.

The nominees this year are as follows:

Niskat Deenever, Half Forward, UBSD

Almert Song, Corner Forward, Tiarest University

Mo Klaret, Center Half Forward, The Ord Sabaok University

Shae Bellweather, Half Forward, UC Bella Vistal”

These names got the crowd intrigued. For the first time in quite a while, a Bak10 player had been nominated for the award. Actually, two players had been, most likely due to UBSD’s dominance in the conference this year for Deneever, and Song because he was just that good. Klaret had looked good on an otherwise-lethargic OSU team, and Bellweather . . . well, it was another UCBV Helmsman nominee. The Renegades churned those out like crazy these days. Bellweather was following in the footsteps of former teammates Jayla Leed and Zak Pers as Helmsman nominees in the last few years.

“And now, the winner of the Helmsman Memorial Trophy is . . .

Mo Klaret.”

The crowd cheered as Klaret stepped up to the podium and accepted his trophy. The highly-ranked forward in the Draft now had an extra bargaining chip not just for draft position, but also for contract negotiations afterwards.